Harry Got Her and the Prince of U No Poo
by Nia O'Connor
Summary: The real story of HBP is yet to be told. Read it if you dare. Share it if you are as delusional as I.


**Harry Got-Her! and the Prince of U-No-Poo**

By TheMaster

Book 6 –Special Translation for the Delusional

The Minister for Muggles-Net paced around his virtual office agitatedly as he glanced out his window at the ever encroaching black mist. He'd been warned. However having not a shred of magical ability himself there was nothing he could do. The Delusionators were out there within the mist and they were breeding…

Slowly, purposefully a single black-shrouded figure rose up out of the mist, smiling an utterly evil smile…

In a creepy, crowded, clichéd corner of England somewhere within an artistically swirling but scary mist, the sisters, Bellatwisted and Narcississy made their way down the classically creepy row of abandoned homes on the classically creepy street. Without warning, Bellatwisted whipped out her rather stylish, but serviceable wand and obliterated a poor fox that had wandered past in a blast of blinding red death.

"What did you do that for?" wailed Narcississy. "I like foxes."

"Atmosphere, my dear Narcississy. Atmosphere. This place is not nearly creepy enough. It needed something dead.

"There it is!" cried Narcississy and ran with almost fiendish glee towards the brilliant, flashing neon sign on the last house on the street.

Plot Spinner's Deep End Discounts

Let Bad-to-the-Bone Big-Daddy Snape make you an offer you can't refuse.

By the way, I'm the Prince of U-No-Poo—How cool is that?

"Remind me of why we are here, my sister." Bellatwisted croaked as they started up the walk.

"Why, sister, don't you know? We're here to catch the biggest plot-line giveaway of the season." chortled Narcississy, "And, look, there's a special on literary make-overs! Looks like BigDaddy is really bringing in the crowds! Look at all those characters. I bet it's a record this year."

"Wait," shrieked Bellatwisted angrily. "I know that boy!" She pointed a bony, but well-manicured finger at a rather charming bespecked youth with startling green eyes standing in the makeover line. "Cheeky little bloke!" Bellatwisted pulled out her stylish, but servicable wand once more. "But I'll teach you some manners, Harry Potter."

"Not today, Bellatwisted, you evil main squeeze of the evil, ominous but cartoon-like badman, Lord Voldy-o-Do!" the boy said these words angrily as he pulled his own wand from his overlarge jeans (that apparently could stay up on him even though they once belonged to his evil and portly cousin who is twelve sizes larger than him and never allows him to use his computer.) "Where was I," the boy asked himself quizzically, then resumed his angry glare, "Oh, yes. Not today, Bellatwisted! Before I can meet you in battle once again, I simply must have a literary makeover. Master insists."

"Not you, my dear boy, you are so angry, so perfect for a fight."

"Can't, and just for the record, from now on, you will refer to me as Harry Got-Her. Master insists." On that word, the boy strode purposefully toward the makeover Room of Required Elements to Force Fit Characters into a Pedestrian Plot whistling tunelessly.

"The boy appears to have special needs," Narcississy sighed.

"As do we all, Narcississy, as do we all." Bellatwisted and her sister melted back into the artistically misted night.

One by one, they all marched into the Makeover Room of Required Elements to Force Fit Characters into a Pedestrian Plot until the last one was completed. Somewhere in the artistically misted night The Master cackled with fiendish glee.

Harry was especially pleased with his makeover as he had lost his anger and his guilt over getting his godfather killed and was suddenly quite suave and sophisticated and totally insightful, especially where the ladies were concerned. Gone were the unsightly trainers and the baggy jeans. The Armani fit him very well indeed and the newly realized Harry GotHer entered the Great Hall with his hand in his pocket looking forward to great things this year, the monster within him roaring for action.

Hogwarts was the same as ever it had been on the outside, but within, changes had been made-drastic changes. The Headmaster, Dead-Arm Dumbly sporting his new black and evil fashion ring to go with his burnt and grotesquely shriveled hand, gave the opening speech as usual after their delicious feast of aphrodisiacs and love potions.

"Welcome, welcome, my young charges, to another year at Hogwarts! There have been years for serious refection and sanity and hard study, and now that we're fully in a war, I can say with all my enormous and incomprehensible knowledge that this year is not one of those. This year, we are most proud to announce the annual Snogfest will continue unabated and we're gonna party like it's 1999! Dig in! "

Cheers erupted spontaneously throughout the Great Hall as the students dispersed to their common rooms.

"Harry," Dead-Arm Dumbly called to his favorite student, "may I have a word?"

Harry ambled over reluctantly having spotted a windswept lock of blazing red hair that made the newly embedded monster within him pant with anticipation of Chapter Twenty-Three. "Yes, Professor?"

"Harry," Dead-Arm Dumbly began, "I expect to be killed brutally by a trusted member of my staff who has been secretly a double double agent for that ominous but cartoon-like badman, Lord Voldy-o-Do and who calls himself the Prince of U-No-Poo. Although I know of his evil plans having been sent a plot-line giveaway by messenger owl, I shall do nothing to prevent it and it is none of your concern since you have no evil person to do in this term and plenty of snogging once you reach Chapter Twenty-Three. Therefore, if there is anything you want to ask me, you better do it now before my pagetime is up."

"Headmaster, is it true that love will be what I need to defeat that ominous but cartoon-like badman, Lord Voldy-o-Do?"

"Yes, Harry, love is your secret weapon."

"Then, how am I to know love?"

"Harry, you cannot know love until Chapter Twenty-Three, you know that."

"Yes, but.."

"You will know when The Master suddenly and inexplicably writes it in with no significant buildup, my boy, but for now, you must wait for the phoenix song that will begin the annual Snogfest. Seek the Snogfest, by boy." With that, Dead-Arm Dumbly disappeared into his mysterious but way-cool office with all the tinkling shiny things.

Harry strode purposefully into the Gryffindor Room of Common Behavior which had been newly redecorated with comfy cots just awaiting the start of Snogfest. It felt like home. The monster within him growled fitfully. He was feeling like cursing someone (using his new combination potions textbook and spell manual that he got from Bad-to-the-Bone Big-Daddy Snape for a winning plotline giveaway ticket.) And so he did. An unsuspecting first year suddenly grew massive horns, then, a second year girl found her underpants over her head. What great wholesome fun, he thought merrily, at last happy to be free from the restraints of the conscience he had so heavily borne for the past five years prior to this great makeover. But enough of this, his best friend in the world, Won-Won Weasley, had just strode though the door followed by his newly assigned harem of simpering and stereotypical brainless love slaves.

"Won-Won!" Harry exclaimed, you got a makeover too?"

"That's right!"

"What did they add to you?" Harry wanted to know since Won-Won looked mostly the same.

Won-Won shrugged, "Aw, just a little over the top." Won-Won turned and smirked, then snogged his favorite love slave, Lavy, before adding, "And this lot."

"And it looks good on you, mate!" Harry exclaimed. "Aw, look here comes Hermyoheeee. Harry stretched out his arms to his other best friend.

"Com'on, Hermyoheeee," he said. Give your best buddy a big old hug that nearly knocks me flat."

"Can't Harry," Hermyoheeee answered glumly. "It's not in my new contract"

"What?"

"Oh, can't you see, Harry," she began to cry uncontrollably as Ron and Lavy began to thrash around on one of the luv-cots like two eels in heat. "I've had a literary makeover too! And now, and now, I think I'm supposed to run to my dorm room and toss things around. But I'm not sure. The Master won't tell me what to do and she has taken most of my brain so I will be a suitable match for Won-Won."

"Wait," Harry grabbed her arm as she moved to get up. "So that means we can't sit down and solve the mystery of Wacko-Draco together using our way cool telepathic abilites and the new partner attributes we were given just last year?"

"I can't solve any mysteries, Harry! I've only got a tiny piece of brain left, and I have to use that to throw jealous fits at Won-Won for snogging Lavy. The Master needed my brain for Ginny-Sue's makeover."

"That's not fair, Harry began, "Ginny-Sue already had one makeover last year. I'm going to…"

But Harry was interrupted by the roaring of the monster within him as bright and fiery sunlight burst through the darkened portrait hole and a chorus of puffskeins began to sing in chorus. Ginny-Sue strode in tossing her long mane of perfect blazing gold-basted red hair and wearing her new Wonder Witch robes that drove all the boys wild. The monster within Harry roared in anger as he saw Deano's leash in Ginny-Sue's hand. So she had captured her own love-slave. This would not be endured.

Harry turned back lamely to Hermyoheeee, who was crying and angry at the same time. "What were you saying, Hermyoheeee?" he asked heartily.

"If I only had my brain," whimpered Hermyoheeee.

Ginny strode from one corner of the Gryffindor Room of Common Behavior and leaned up against a lamp post which had magically appeared. "Everyone's going to know who the top witch around here really is now," she said in a purr like a cat and tossing an angry glance at Hermyoheeee. And, with consummate cat-like grace, she began to dance the pole until Harry's monster begged for mercy. Ginny Sue then turned swinging her mane of inexpressively beautiful, blazing red hair and strode confidently out of the Room of Common Behavior with five boys and the hapless Deano trailing in her heavily-perfumed wake. Harry's monster wept.

Harry suddenly remembered Hermyoheeee who had begun to cry as Won-Won began snogging Lavy in the popular 'Round the Twist' position and winced. "So, Hermyoheeee, The Wacko-Draco Project doesn't require a brain—I've got all the plot points right here. They were having a sale.

All we have to do is sit platonically down and platonically work out a plan. A platonic plan."

"Oh, Harry," said Hermyoheeee her eyes fixed on Won-Won's luv-cot exertions with Lavy, "Don't you see? We can't let anyone see that we have any kind of platonic connection anymore. We can't be friends. Someone might think that we actually care for each other if we actually sat down and work through a problem without snogging or bickering. We can't have that, can we? What is wrong with you, have the Delusionators got to you? Everyone knows that relationships are based on jealousy and endless bickering or mindless snogging, not on friendship. The Master says so. Anyway, friendships aren't allowed during Snogfest. You know that—only snogging partners."

Suddenly, Won-Won, still locking lips with Lavy, looked across the room at Hermyoheeee and their eyes met. "I love you, Hermyoheeee, he exclaimed. That is why I am here snogging Lavy, so you will know that."

Hermyoheeee's eyes sparkled with tears, "Oh, yes, my darling Won-Won, I know. Let us fight and quarrel, and then I can cry and you can mock me and kick me while I am down."

"Won-Won!"she said.

"Hermyoheeee!" he said.

"Hermyoheeee?" Harry said, as she rose transfixed with a vapid smile on her face, "I can't talk to you, Harry, I have to make way for Ginny Sue. I am Won-Won's love slave now. I can no longer speak for myself. Oh, praise be," she said dramatically clutching her ears, "I've just been made an airhead! Oh, thank you, My Master."

Harry blew into her ear. She was right. The breath stirred her hair on the other side of her head.

Hermyoheeee moved away slowly, clutching the only book she had bought for the school year. Jealous Rages Made Easy by Throw A. Fitt and her face suddenly screwed up in anger as she attacked Won-Won and Lavy with a flock of mutant canaries, then spoke ill of Mrs. Weasley. Won-Won retaliated with a mocking imitation of her answering a question in class last year when she was still quite brilliant.

"Oh, Won-Won," she exclaimed happily, as he rushed to her and slapped her to the ground. "You love me, you really love me?" she said trembling and clutching Won-Won's trouser leg.

Harry watched them happily for a few moments before giving his very best friend in the entire world the thumbs up. "Looking good, Won-Won!" he exclaimed enthusiastically.

Won-Won gave the thumbs up sign back. "Feeling good, Harry!"

As if on cue, the Phoenix began to sing, "Let's Get it On" That meant Dead-Arm Dumbly was dead, Wacko Draco had finished his task and the Snogfest could begin in earnest.

Won-Won kicked Hermyoheeee and she scuttled back along the floor as quickly as she could to clutch his trouser leg once more while he snogged Lavy mercilessly.

So this was love, Harry observed the numerous couples in numerous positions around the Gryffindor Room of Common Behavior, hitting, scratching and insulting each other with abandon and the monster within him shouted in glee. Love was in the air, in his very skin. This is what would defeat that ominous but cartoon-like badman, Lord Voldy-o-Do! His monster purred in agreement.

At that precise moment, a blindingly brilliant light burst through the portrait hole. Ginny Sue had returned. The monster within him shouted as she strode over to him, her face firery and catlike and brilliant and she purred at him and took his arm and said absolutely nothing. But that was alright, because he realized that since Ginny-Sue had got Hermyoheeee's brain, they could suddenly communicate telepathically. Life was so good!

At last Harry knew, knew from the very depths of his soul that love was superficial beauty and superficial beauty was love. Love was perfume and a fiery face and great Quidditch skills and great skin and make-up. Love was everything that was so wonderfully shallow and trivial about his own made-to order beautiful beyond reason GinnySue. She would never ever stoop so low as to ask him to be careful when he faced that ominous but cartoon-like badman, Lord Voldy-o-Do. She would just smile that twisted little smile of hers and her flowery perfume would waft through the air and be enough to sustain him. The very memory of her triteness and shallowness and absurdly minimal character development would be a defense against those Delusionators. He turned to look at his absolutely perfect and flawless little GinnySue with her beauteous face fiery like the setting sun. She had a deep complete and profound understanding of him but he didn't need to understand her in the least. She understood what his former friend, Hermyoheeee (when she had a brain), had not. A Harry Got-Her girl must never speak her mind—never, ever, ever express concern for his safety. He knew what he was doing. After all he had survived this long. This was love in its purest and rarest form. Why, it was like magic!

He smiled down at his own, his true, his perfect little huggy buggy, snuggly wuggly funny, hunny, bunny, sunny Ginny Sue. She smiled her vapid little twisted smile back at him. And when he finally went off to capture the missing horsnacklecruxes and to fight that ominous but cartoon-like badman, Lord Voldy-o-Do, he could walk away and Hermyoheeee's transplanted brain would somehow manage to communicate the words he needed to hear:

"Just one more book. 'Scar'"


End file.
